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| but the thing is what is OKAY?
is OKAY being able to sit here and type and sit still and actually be able to process? to concentrate this energy?
to like?
to love?
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| it's twenty to two in the morning and i'm climbing out of bed. and the only reason i'm typing instead of scribbling is because it's dark in here and it somehow feels like this computer with it's keyboard takes less effort than my notebook in the bottom of the bag nowhere to be found. with the scribbles.
two in the morning and i'm up in four hours to work for the money that i don't need and probably shouldn;t be spending.
i am overjoyed overwhelmed pleased with these feelings i am feeling because i have denumbed. i have thawed, really. a lame way of illustrating maybe, like i'm some patch of ice, like i'm cold, but i am. i am cold. but i'm working on it, and i feel like that says a lot. it's a work in progress, at least.
fifteen minutes and i'll go to bed i swear but whats the difference? i'm tired anyways, i'll be tired anyways because each day i'm running even when there's no where in particular to go. each day i've got planned in this notebook with plans of god knows what? who knows what? i'm trying to prepare for a time when everything will be okay but the thing is, everything is okay. | | |
| of course there's a division.
there's this is so bad for me in the long run, but this is so perfect for me right now. theres i know i should stop, but if i spend all my time thinking i shouldnt be doing this than whats the point of doing this? and i read all of these books written by people in all of these places where i want to be, where i say i'd rather be. but how do we know what we'd rather do and what we'd rather not if we don't just do it. if we don't just fucking talk and act when an opportunity is about to pass us by. | | |
| i wake up, get dressed, walk to the subway, get to school, go to school, go to irving plaza or chorus or nyu class, get on the subway, walk home, do my homework, and go to bed. and then i
wake up, get dressed, walk to the subway, get to school, go to school, go to irving plaza or chorus or nyu class, get on the subway, walk home, do my homework, and go to bed
and i am resilient. because how the fuck can i not be. and i know that a good amount of the time i am just testing everyone around me, and i have no intention on trusting anyone. its only a test. but its so much more than just tests.
well regardless, ive been going around the past few days in sunshine. ive been waking up good and going to sleep good. ive been saying, this weather really puts me in the right state of mind, fuck winter, fuck being cold sad sad cold cold sad. this is such an excuse. this is such a see-through-excuse. because i am dying to be happy- but no one is. a friend of mine said to me the other day that she just can't stand ignorant, unintelligent people, she doesn't pity them or have sympathy for them because it's their own fault. but me, i cant help feeling sad for the people i know that walk around pretending to be happy. i cant stand feeling sad for the people who walk around looking so sad and i wonder about which one i am. i mean yes, i wonder if i look happy on the outside, but mostly i just wonder what its like on the inside. im the only one who could possibly know, and yet i still have no idea. how have i managed this? im not managing this.
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| hi.
i think that most people i know go around doing things when they arent even sure on why they are doing them. i think they say things, touch things, move things, and they do not give a second glance to what's motivating them; what's moving them; who's moving them. and then i think about the people that i dont know. i live in new york city, with 8 million other lonely people, and everyday i run into the same ones. the same 200. but i'm always thinking about everyone else, because if they are just like the people i already know, than i do not want to live here.
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